Page 70 of The Falconer

I think I hear his breath hitch. ‘Gabhaidh mi mo chead dhiot,’ he murmurs. He’s said that to me so many times before. His goodbye.

Kiaran strides past me down the corridor. I don’t watch him leave. I step into the drawing room and grope for my shawl. It’ll do for covering up the blood on my dress.

I wince at the state of the room. The floor is littered with books and broken teacups and shattered porcelain vases. A statue of Venus lies on the carpet with its arm lopped off. If I get all of the broken items cleaned up and thrown away, perhaps Father won’t notice they’re missing. And maybe he’ll think the armless statue has character.

‘Well, I can safely say that I’ve never experienced a more exciting two days,’ Gavin says, jarring me from my thoughts. ‘I suppose I should send a note before visiting again. “Are you in the company of any creature liable to attack me unprovoked? I can visit later.”’

I leave the door open an inch out of habit. Some etiquette rules are hard to forget even when a certain faery doesn’t bother to observe them. ‘It would help if you didn’t barge in unannounced.’

Gavin leans against the arm of the settee and picks up a book that has fallen there. He tosses it to the floor, apparently not the least bit interested in the wreckage. ‘The front door was open, your butler was nowhere in sight and I heard voices. Who the hell was that?’

‘Kiaran MacKay.’ I sink back onto the settee. ‘Most of what you saw last night I learned from him.’

Gavin pulls out a small flask from his coat pocket and takes a deep drink. ‘Is that right? The fellow teaches you to slaughter his own kind and you don’t believe that’s a wee bit worthy of suspicion?’

Thank God the tea dispenser has survived its plummet to the floor. I right it and press the button to brew more tea, then fill one of the few unbroken teacups. ‘If you’re asking me whether I trust him, the answer is no.’

‘Nowthat’sreassuring. But it doesn’t change the fact that you have a pixie who ate all my honey and a faery visitor who very nearly throttled the life out of me. Has anyone ever told you that you keep truly terrible company?’

I can’t help but smile. ‘I hope you realise that includes you?’

‘At least you can count on me not to threaten your guests.’ He takes another pull from his flask and smirks. ‘Unlike your bad-tempered faery friend. So whatwereyou doing with him when I arrived? It looked cosy.’

‘Kiaran was . . . helping me.’

‘Was there something near your mouth that required such focused attention?’

I all but choke on my tea. ‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘You were about this close –’ he holds up two fingers, a hair’s breadth apart ‘– from rubbing noses.’

I glare at him. ‘Are you going to tell me anything about your vision? Surely you must have seen something of what Kiaran saw. Or are you going to pretend it never happened?’

Gavin’s body goes still. A muscle tics in his jaw. ‘You know,’ he says carefully, ‘that’s a capital idea. Let’s pretend, shall we?’

‘Gavin,’ I say softly.

‘Don’t,’ he tells me. ‘Just don’t. I haven’t seen much yet. And if I’m to be entirely honest with you, I don’t want to. What little I have seen—’ He downs more whisky.

‘Is it about me?’ I ask quietly. ‘I think I deserve to know that much, at least.’

‘No.’ He shakes his head then. ‘I don’t know. I can only see the end of the vision now, not what leads up to it. The faery was blocking me from viewing it with him.’

Of course Kiaran was. ‘Then how does it end?’

‘I have nightmares about it. It’s kept me awake nearly every night for the last week, and it’s not something I want to discuss.’ He sighs. ‘It’s my burden, Aileana. I shouldn’t share it with you.’

Both of us are silent then. I look over at the window and watch as the sky grows darker and darker. The clouds are gathered thick and dark above the trees, swathed in the vivid colours of the setting sun. The rain continues to patter hard on the windowsill, the carpet beneath it soaked through now.

Across from me, I notice Gavin shiver and move over on the settee, closer to the fireplace. I don’t feel the cold. My head is burning and I swipe more sweat from my brow, ignoring the dull headache pounding my temples.

Finally, I bring up the topic I’ve been dreading. ‘You called me your fiancée. You offered for me.’

‘I did,’ he says softly.

I reach over the table between us and take his hand. ‘You were under no obligation to do that.’

He doesn’t look at me. The dark clouds are reflected in his eyes as he watches the rainfall. ‘I was in a position to save your reputation, so I did. It infuriated Mother.’

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